


Worship

by doylesmom



Series: Gift Fics [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, PWP, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doylesmom/pseuds/doylesmom
Summary: Claude worships at Byleth’s throne.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Gift Fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554103
Comments: 7
Kudos: 85





	Worship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jullika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jullika/gifts).



> Wrote a little thing for my lovely girlfriend, hope y’all enjoy!

There is something tender in the way he looks at her, something gentle and kind in the way his eyes shine and the way his entire being softens as his gaze lands on her. It is as though just the sight of her undoes him, unmasks him, peels away his layers and deceptions until all that is left is his raw, tender heart.

She holds her hands out to him, and he kneels before her, vulnerable and disarmed as he kisses her fingers, her palms, her wrists. She cups his cheeks as his eyes gaze up at her, and he looks at her like she is the goddess he never believed in.

“Khalid.” She says to him, her voice softening as she speaks his true name, and he shivers with delight. 

“Byleth.” His voice is soft, caressing. “Love.”

His hands come up to hover over her thighs, still covered in the soft pants of her dinner wear, the black silk resplendent against the gilded cushion of her throne. He hesitates. He looks up to her, takes in her face, and something in her own gaze spurs him to action.

Byleth gasps as his hands land on her thighs, searing through her silks and sending sparks across her skin and up to her core. His eyes twinkle at the sound, and he squeezes the meat of her thighs in his large, warm hands. Once, twice, his thumbs stroke across the fabric, and Byleth leans forward to kiss her husband’s forehead. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” He whispers into the silent air of the empty throne room. “What great deed did I commit in my past lives to earn the right to love you, to be loved by you?”

“Khalid, my Khalid.” Byleth hums. “You were you. That’s enough.”

He looks up at her, and she can see in his eyes that he needs her, needs her in the way that she needs him. She presses one last kiss to his hair and leans back in her throne, and in less than a moment his hands and mouth resume their exploration of her thighs.

Up, up, up his hands travel, pausing just a moment to tease at the crease where her hips meet her thighs before hooking into the band of her pants. He tugs on them and Byleth obliges, sliding her hips forward in her seat as he pulls the pants off of her. They pool in a puddle of silk at her feet, and before she can even move to kick them off her Khalid is there, between her legs, running his fingers rapturously over her bare pussy.

“You weren’t wearing any small clothes?” He groans, his eyes catching on the wetness that already glistens against her lower lips. Before she can respond, tease him about his discovery, his mouth latches onto her clit with a moan. 

Byleth cries out at the sensation of his hot, wet tongue against her clit. He kitten licks her clit, quick flashes of fire against the sensitive nub and her hands fly to her aching breasts. She flicks her thumbs over the hard nubs of her nipples that strain against her top as he grazes his teeth against her clit. Her thighs and stomach jolt beneath his touch, and the scant pressure his tongue creates against her is not enough, not enough. Her hips chase after his mouth as he withdraws it and his eyes gleam mischievously as she whimpers for him to continue his sweet torment. 

Like a starved man before a grand feast, Khalid pounces, his mouth latching onto her clit. He suckles at the exposed flesh and Byleth keens, breath coming in short bursts as her head falls back, her crown scraping noisily against the throne as fire races through her veins, every nerve in her body coming to life as her best friend, her husband, her supplicant, her beautiful, wonderful, incredible Khalid begins licking her trembling cunt in long, broad stripes. His beard scrapes against the bare flesh of her thighs with each pass and Byleth nearly sobs her pleasure as he latches on once more, wet and sloppy and burning hot as stars explode behind her eyelids and she comes with a sob.

She is aware of him cleaning her spend up with his tongue, kissing her thighs, her stomach, her throbbing pussy. There isn’t much feeling there, yet, but soon enough she knows she’ll be ready for round two.

“I told you I could do it.” He chuckles as her eyes clear and her mind returns to her body. “Make you come without using my hands.”   
  


“You did, didn’t you.” She sighs in acknowledgement. With a groan she rises from the throne, her legs wobbling for just a moment before she rights herself, kicking off the black trousers that still tangled around her ankles. “Fine, you win tonight.”

Khalid makes a small victory noise.

“So, my king,” she says through batting lashes. “What shall you claim as your prize?”

Khalid hums for only a moment, and Byleth finds the look in his eyes positively  _ enthralling _ .

“You know,” he says, taking a seat on his own, matching throne, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be ridden in this.”

Byleth cannot help but laugh, and this time it is her who reaches out her hands to him. The adoration in his shines through once again, and Byleth feels her own face mirror it.

She loves this man, her Khalid.

She tells him so.

They don’t leave the throne room that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tzubakis/)


End file.
